


Most Things Return

by just_another_exhausted_fangirl



Series: Some things don't disappear [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Abuse of Power, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon, Grief/Mourning, Homophobia, Hurt Merlin, M/M, Psychological Trauma, Romance, Self-Harm, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-07-17 23:30:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 16,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7290490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_another_exhausted_fangirl/pseuds/just_another_exhausted_fangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years after the first part of the series.</p><p>Arthur and Merlin live happily together, until Merlin slowly starts to break down again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Evening It All Starts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've switched to present tense, so there might be grammar mistakes. Let me know if you find any!

Four years have passed since they've moved in together. Arthur has not taken over the company Uther had left him, he's stayed on the 12th floor and has grown to somehow like his job. Merlin works in a library now, getting paid minimum wage, but they manage. They always manage.

When Merlin wakes up on this Friday morning, he can feel that something is wrong. Arthur’s still asleep, his alarm isn’t going to go off for another two hours. The pitter-patter of the raindrops on the window usually calms him down, but today is different.

He feels strange, like he’s still trapped in his dream although he can’t remember what it has been about. He’s thirsty, so he gets out of bed and walks into the kitchen.

But even after chugging two glasses of water, he still feels restless, his hands are fidgeting with one of the towels as he tries to concentrate on his breathing.

He has been getting better. For nearly a year now, he’s been clean of these thoughts. Blades disgust him, blood scares him and he is proud of that. 

But today, it’s different. Today, he _craves_ it.

‘Go find Arthur. Tell him what’s wrong. He’ll understand,’ his sanity tells him.

But the screaming voice in the back of his head that's never really left, thinks differently. _It’s just_ one _cut. Just a little blood. No one will notice. Just this once._

He clutches the edges of the kitchen table and tries to calm his racing mind. He won’t do it. He won’t betray Arthur.

He goes back to bed but is unable to go back to sleep. He just lies there, staring at the ceiling, wondering why everything has to break apart now.

‘I was fine. I was good. Everything was so perfect.’ He hopes it doesn’t mean anything. Maybe it’s just a one-time thing.

* * *

 

“You look like you didn’t get much sleep last night,” Arthur says and looks over the edge of his steaming coffee cup.

_Just a one-time thing._

“Yeah, I don’t know what was going on there.” He shoots his partner a reassuring smile and turns back to his cereal.

“Manchester is playing tonight. Are you sure you don’t want to join us?”  
    Merlin looks up, surprised. “They are? Oh, hell yeah!” he laughs. Arthur nods knowingly. “Thought so.”

They kiss goodbye and leave in opposite directions – Arthur walks towards the train station, Merlin needs to catch the bus two streets down. They can’t wait for 8pm.

Sometimes, he still has nightmares about Freya, waking up in the middle of the night covered in sweat and tears and Arthur ‘I’m a _very_ deep sleeper’ Pendragon isn’t always there to help him. But it used to be so much worse. He can usually handle it – and when he can’t, he wakes up the snoring blond man next to him.

But this is different. As he's putting the books from A-G in the right order, his thoughts easily drift off to other places; bloody, unbeautiful ones. He nearly _hopes_ to accidently cut himself on the thick paper.

He’s back with a quick pinch to his arm, but the eerie feeling stays all day. He _wants_ to tell Arthur, but then again, he _doesn’t_ want to.

‘What’s wrong with me?’ he think with a shudder.

“Merlin?” Eira’s voice says behind him and he realizes that he’s been standing there, completely frozen, for at least two minutes.

Eira doesn’t know exactly what has happened to him, but her – very talkative – boyfriend Gwaine has surely told her bits and pieces from what Merlin’s resigned to him.

“Are you alright?”  
    He turned around and smiled reassuringly, “I’m fine, I was just lost in thought.” She looks at him, justifiably disbelieving, and suggests an early lunch break, but Merlin refuses.

“Really, Eira, I’m good,” he says and makes a cross over his heart. She sighs and turns away.

* * *

 

He receives a text from Arthur as soon as he’s entered the bus.

**Arthur: Can u pick up a baguette on the way home pls? I forgot and I don’t wanna go out again thx :P**

**Merlin: You’re SO incompetent**

**Arthur: I’m making dinner! U’re welcome**

**Merlin: Prat**

“Did you bring the ba-“ – “Yes, I’m not as dumb as you after all,” Merlin banters and gives him a little peck on the cheek.

“Is that all I get?” Arthur exclaimed disappointed, “Nothing proper?”  
    Merlin turns around with a malicious grin. “No.”

Arthur charges towards him and pulls him into a long kiss. They only unwillingly pull apart when they notice that it’s half past seven and they really need to prepare the Bruschetta.

When Lance and Gwaine ring the doorbell, they haven’t finished at all. Arthur hurries to open the door and Merlin continues to cut the bread into small pieces. He just looks towards the door for a second and –

“Shit!” Blood immediately gushes out of his thumb, so much that he can’t see how bad the damage actually is. It doesn’t stop, but oddly, it doesn’t hurt at all. Merlin goes as white as a sheet and presses a towel on the wound, which is soaked in red too quickly.

“Arthur!” he cries and stumbles backwards, fear bubbling up in his chest. Gwaine is the first to arrive in the kitchen, an aghast look on his face.

He immediately changes the cloth and shouts, “He hit an artery, we need to get him to the hospital!”

Arthur’s just as pale as his lover, but he doesn’t hesitate to lift him from his feet and carry him into Lance’s car. Merlin feels sick, but he knows that it’s just the shock. He starts to calm down and the pain starts to set in.

“I’ve been through worse,” he tries to perk Arthur up. He earns a smile and an “Idiot” and continues to apply pressure.

* * *

 

“We’ll have to stitch that up,” a young nurse explains and looks at the three men standing next to Merlin, “I would like you all to leave the room now while I suture his wound, alright?”

Gwaine and Lancelot step away immediately, but Arthur shakes his head. “No way. I’m staying.”

The nurse looks at Merlin and he nods. “He can stay.”

* * *

 

“Well, that was a fun evening, wasn’t it?” Gwaine quips as he munches a piece of baguette. They don’t bother to actually finish the recipe and decide to just eat plain bread with some sauces from the fridge instead.

“Well, it was more thrilling than football, that’s for sure,” Lance remarks, mouth full of jerky.   
    “How _dare_ you!” Gwaine snaps back, “We could’ve watched them win but _Mer_ lin ruined it!” He winks at his friend, “No offence, Merlin.”

The latter laughs. “I have to admit; I _did_ kinda ruin the evening.”

When the two guests finally leave and Arthur’s busy with the washing up (“You are _not_ doing anything with that finger!”), Merlin locks himself in the bathroom and closes his eyes in desperate search of the odd feeling he’s had up until the accident.

As weird as this sounds, he doesn’t want it to be gone – it feels like he’s lost a battle. Sure, he didn’t cut himself _on purpose_ , but it still fed the monster. It’s quiet, way too quiet, and he knows it’s going to return, but stronger next time, having fed on his blood.

After brushing his teeth, he leaves the bathroom with the decision to tell Arthur what has happened.

“Hey, I need to-“ But when he walks into the living room, Arthur’s asleep on the couch. He looks so peaceful that Merlin decides to let him rest and snuggles up next to him.

‘Tomorrow. I’ll tell him tomorrow,’ he thinks before drifting off into a deep sleep.


	2. An Old Fiend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uther finds about their relationship.

Merlin gets woken from his slumber by the doorbell. He looks over at Arthur who hasn’t even twitched. Typical.

He rubs the sleep from his eyes and opens the door. His heart sinks.

Standing on the _Welcome, Friend_ door mat with an astonished look on his face is Uther Pendragon.

They’ve been able to keep their relationship a secret from Arthur’s homophobic father – up until now.

Uther’s surprise quickly turns into anger when he realizes what this means.

“Please, I can explain,” Merlin attempts and stumbles backwards, but the brawny man pushes him against the wall and tramples into the living room.

“ARTHUR PENDRAGON!” he thunders and roughly grabs his son by the arm, pulling him from the couch.

Arthur wakes with a start, but as soon as he realizes what’s going on, he puts his hands up in desperate surrender. “Dad, please…”

His words get cut of by a slap. “I DID NOT RAISE YOU A FAGGOT!” the elder man shouts, his face getting redder by the second. Another slap. A crimson hand mark starts to appear on Arthur's cheek and he vehemently tries to protect himself from the blows.

“Sir, please stop!” Merlin is now screaming too, pulling back the raging man from his boyfriend. He always knew that something like this was going to happen – they wouldn’t have been able to hide forever – but he never expected Uther to actually hit his _own kid_.

“You!” Uther’s small eyes fix on Merlin’s barely dressed body and he spits, “I never should’ve given you the job! You seduced my only son, I should’ve known that you’re a poof!”

“Stop.” Arthur’s voice is quiet but filled with so much hate and fury that his father immediately turns around to face him. “Leave, or I’m calling the police.”

Luckily for both of them, the threat works and the man storms out of their apartment with a hissed “You’re dead to me”.

Merlin suddenly feels dizzy and he has to cling to a cupboard for support.

Could’ve gone better. Could’ve gone worse.

He looks over to Arthur and sees to his horror that he’s crying. Arthur never cries; in their four years of being together Merlin can count the times on one hand.

His shoulders are shaking with sobs and he covers his face with his hands as if to hide the obvious.

“No,” Merlin manages and gently touches his arm. His lover pulls him into a wet hug.

“I’m so sorry you had to see that,” Arthur says in a raspy voice.

“I just regret that I didn’t check the door spy before opening.”

They don’t let go for a long time. Their hearts pounding in unison, they stand in the middle of the flat, rubbing each other’s backs and trying to process what has happened.

“What will he do?” Merlin eventually asks.

He feels Arthur shrug. “Disown me, probably. But he won’t hurt us, I’ll make sure of that.” He suddenly flinches and pulls free. “Shit, I need to warn Morgana. Who knows what my father might be thinking!”

* * *

 

His sister answers the phone with a yawn. “What do you want, _Prince_ Arthur?”

Merlin has gotten used to their inside joke. They sometimes refer to each other as Milady and Prince to tease the other. They explained to him once that they used to do nothing but read about the Middle Ages when they were young.

“Uther found out that I’m dating Merlin,” Arthur says and his voice cracks.

“Fuck. Is Merl okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” It has become a habit for Morgana to call him _Merl_ – he doesn’t mind.

“We’re fine, but that’s not why I called. You need to be extra cautious, Morgana. He probably suspects you too since you’ve been “single” for over six years…”

“I’ll take care, thank you. Jesus, I can’t believe it… having to hide from our own father.”

Arthur’s face darkens. He ends the call and sits down on a chair, suddenly looking very old.

Merlin wordlessly goes into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. He doesn’t know what to say; he’s desperately searching for the right words but his mind is blank. It tears at his heart to see Arthur this way.

When he cracks some eggs on top of the sizzling bacon, Arthur’s suddenly behind him. “Come on Merlin, you shouldn’t use your thumb,” he mumbles and grabs the ladle.

They eat in silence, each in their own thoughts. Their forks chatter on the plates like swords in a fight until Merlin finally manages say, “We should do something nice today. Visit Gwen and Lance or something, you know?”

Arthur perks up and shoots him a light smile. “That’s a wonderful idea.”

* * *

 

They end up going to the zoo with Leon, Gwen and Elyan. The most time is spent at the elephant cage. The animal’s calm, steady way of moving rubs off on them and they watch them get fed for over an hour.

When Merlin and Arthur join hands, it almost feels like victory. The haven’t necessarily won over Uther, but _they’ll show him_. Leon senses that something is different but he doesn't say anything. 

They buy some sandwiches for lunch and settle themselves by the aquarium.  
“You’ve been together for so long don’t you think it’s time to marry already?” Gwen asks with a smirk and casually leans on Arthur.

Merlin nearly spits out his drink. Arthur burst into laughter. “You’re just saying that because _you_ got married!” he snorts and hits Merlin’s back, who seems to be choking.

When he’s finally calmed down, he turns to his boyfriend and asks, “Should we?”  
    Merlin giggles. “You ruined your proposal, you prat.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want roses, like a _girl_?”

* * *

 

Warm water runs down his back, soap slowly drips from his hands and fog on the mirror starts to build drops, but Merlin doesn’t pay attention to any of it. He’s trapped in a full-blown flashback.

_The blood on his stomach is still warm from his body heat. The red spot on his shirt grows bigger as the scarlet sputters out of the small hole in his chest._

_He can’t breathe. His vision darkens and before he realizes the gravity of the situation, the ground approaches his face. Why has the floor turned? Has gravity failed?_

_He hears Freya’s scream and then there’s nothing._

Everything still looks the same when he finally manages to pull free from the memory’s cold embrace. He’s still standing up, so that’s a plus, but his fingers are trembling violently.

In the haze of an old instinct, he grabs his shaver and sets it to his stomach.

_STOP._

With a whimper, he throws the razor from him and clutches his arms. That has been way too close. He can't let himself slip like that again.

But when he feels the familiar painful sting on his skin he knows he’s failed. He’s fed the monster.


	3. In A War Against The Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin struggles with the urge to cut himself and shuts Arthur out.

Sunday morning, 9am. Merlin grunts and and reaches for Arthur, but his boyfriend isn’t in bed and his sheets are cold. ‘He must be on his morning run,’ Merlin thinks, slwoly opening his eyes. 

It’s still fairly dark outside but he can already hear the birds tweeting through the closed window. The bedroom is ice cold so he nestles into his blanket and stares at the ceiling.

He’s terribly hungry but somehow doesn’t have the strength to get up. It doesn’t surprise him; he’s never been much of a morning person. But when he’s still lying there thirty minutes later, limbs weighing tons, he knows it’s not due to his laziness.

A dark veil of sadness and exhaustion condescends itself on him and he suddenly becomes aware of the wetness on his face and in his hair. He’s crying.

‘I’ll just get up now. Move my left leg a bit to the side, and then my right one…’  
    But none of the efforts to motivate himself are of use. He feels paralyzed, strung to the bed by the ropes of his own thoughts. So he just closes his eyes again, lets his body go limp and drifts into an unpleasant slumber.

Arthur immediately jumps into the shower when he gets home. He’s still panting for air when he shampoos his hair and body.

Something has felt weird ever since he's walked through the door into flat – the atmosphere somehow seems different; heavy, sad. And even after staying under the pleasantly warm water for a bit, the uneasy feeling remains.

He quickly dries himself and walks into their bedroom. Merlin’s still asleep and he finds himself relaxing a little. When he walks over to give him a good morning kiss, he doesn’t notice the tear tracks on his temples.

It’s only when Merlin looks at him that he realizes something’s very wrong. Merlin’s eyes are glassy and so, _so_ tired when another salty tears slips from his eyelashes.

Arthur feels a painful sting in his heart area. For a moment, he freezes; bottom lip trembling, overwhelmed by the other's sadness, fumbling with the right words to say while his lover starts to sob, shoulders heaving and breath hitching in his chest.

But then he thumbs at the wetness on Merlin’s face, gets into bed and carefully sits him up.

“Shhh, It’s alright, Merlin, just breathe,” he soothes as he presses him against his chest. “Did you have another nightmare?”

* * *

 

Merlin watches as Arthur’s joyful expression turns horrified when the sobs start shaking his whole body. His boyfriend grabs his chest and pulls him onto his lap, cradling him and whispering into his ear with a calm and steady voice. When he asks if he’s dreamt something bad, Merlin’s mouth form the word no, then, in a split second, changes his mind and nods. He can’t know. He’ll have to handle this one on his own.

“You need to get up; staying in bed will just make it worse.” Arthur pulls him to his feet and kisses him again. Merlin’s lips feel hot when they separate; he can still feel the gentle pressure of Arthur’s tongue on his lips. He doesn't kiss back and Arthur’s eyes grow sad when he looks at him.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” Merlin replies haltingly. He wants to tell Arthur some lie about the incident yesterday but his voice betrays him.  
    “I love you,” he eventually manages.

A smile tugs at the corner of Arthur’s lips and he caresses his cheek. “I know. I love you too. And I’ll always be there for you – you know that right? _Always_.”

Hand in hand, they walk into the kitchen and eat breakfast together. Merlin starts to feel a little better when he gets some food in his stomach. He nearly tells Arthur about the accident with the razor but the words get stuck in his throat. 

Arthur’s face from when he found him on the bathroom floor one morning pops up in his mind. It would break his heart if he had to live through that again.

_You’re such a burden to him!  You take up all his time whining about your little inconsequential problems._

* * *

 

In the afternoon, they drive to the hospital for Merlin to get his sutures taken out. It hurts and he likes it, and that sickens him. Arthur holds his and twitches every time the nurse pulls out a thread.

“How can you be so still? It hurts me just looking at it!” Arthur cries and looks at his boyfriend disbelievingly.

“I’m not a complete and utter girl like _you_ ,” Merlin grins and earns himself a blow to the arm for that.

“We’re gonna get some ice cream for my nerves,” Arthur groans and heads in the direction of the cafeteria.

“It’s like fifteen degrees outside!”

“Still not as cold as your heart.”

Merlin chuckles and follows him. They decide for caramel and sit down next to a window.

The sun melts their ice cream before they finish, causing Arthur to listlessly stir the remaining sauce. “Don’t play with your food,” Merlin says and licks his spoon clean.

Arthur grins cheekily. “Only if you let me play with your di-“ – “ARTHUR!” Merlin can’t help but to burst out laughing. An old couple turns around and shoots them irritated glances.

* * *

 

The week passes without any special incidents – for Arthur. It’s different for Merlin. The thirst for his own blood sits in the back of his head every hour of every day. He sometimes wakes up shaking and sweating; he has to control himself whenever he undresses and gets to see his old scars.

The worst thing though is that he can’t tell Arthur. Many times, he’s opened his mouth to say something but no sound came out. He just can’t bring himself to burden him with any more sorrows.

Arthur knows something has changed about him but he can’t put his finger on it. Merlin is quieter, somehow on edge. He writes it to their confrontation with Uther – whom he hasn’t heard from since – but it’s more than that. He hasn’t cut himself, Arthur would’ve seen that during sex, but that doesn’t mean he’s fine.

It isn’t until next Sunday that Arthur truly starts to worry. His lover has become thinner and paler, floating around the flat like a ghost. He hardly speaks and Arthur often observes that he’s been crying when they get up in the morning. He's confronted him about it several times; pleading, yelling angrily, asking calmly; but Merlin's always denied everything. He still hasn’t cut himself and Arthur suspects he’s fighting a war against the urge.

That’s why he pauses _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_ , turns around on the sofa and says, “We need to talk.”

Merlin immediately blanches – if it was possible to get any whiter – and begins to fidget with the wool blanket.

“What’s wrong?”  
    “Nothing,” Merlin replies automatically, like so many times before.

“Should _I_ tell you then?” Arthur says, fighting to control his emotions. “You’re doing a great job fighting it, Merlin, but silently is not the right way to do it. Please let me help. I know I can if you’d just _let me_ -“

“Shut up,” Merlin chokes out. Arthur flinches. This certainly isn't the reaction he’s expected.

“Don’t be silly! You’re getting worse everyday, I can see it! I just wanna help!”

“Stop it, Arthur!” Merlin yells and in a sudden rush of anger he jumps up and grabs his coat.

“Where are you going?”

“OUT!”

Arthur whimpers. “Merlin, _please_!” But the door closes shut and the flat goes completely quiet.


	4. Fighting Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur, Lance and Leon are worried about Merlin.

For a long time, Arthur just stares at the closed door. He did it wrong. He shouldn’t have been so direct.

A single tear slips from his eye but he angrily wipes it away, mind racing.

_Go after him._

_No, let him._

_He might do something stupid._

His heart sinks when he thinks about a bloody, lifeless Merlin. His breathing starts to get rapid, uncontrollable. He has to grab the table for support when his vision starts to get spotty. ‘I’m hyperventilating,’ he realizes before his knees give up under his weight and he sinks to the kitchen floor.

He manages to get out his mobile. Not bothering to check which number he’s got on speed dial, he presses the green button.

“Arthur?” Leon. “Whoa, you’re breathing heavily, have you been running?” he asks cheerfully.  
   

When no answer comes, his voice starts to sound concerned. “You’re freaking me out, please say something.”

“Merlin…” Arthur manages before his voice breaks again. But Leon understands.

“I’ll be right over.”

And he is – with Lancelot in tow. Arthur has been able to drag himself onto the couch and lies there, curled into a ball, his blue eyes staring holes into the opposed wall when the two men barge through the door.

“Jesus,” Leon breathes and gently places a hand on Arthur’s shoulders. Lancelot freezes in the doorway.  
    “Where’s Merlin?” he asks, voice trembling. He can’t help but to imagine his best friend in the bathtub with slashed wrists.

But Arthur remains silent, the only sound coming from his mouth being his fast, raspy breaths. Leon grabs his shoulders and sits him up, then he tells Lancelot to make some tea.

Fifteen minutes and a very nervous Lancelot later, the blond man finally finds his voice again.  
    “We had a fight and he left.”

Lancelot nods impatiently. “Why did you fight?”

“I was so stupid!” Arthur buries his face in his hands and continues, his voice now muffled. “He’s been getting worse for some time now, but every time I tried to help him, he just… lied to me. Told me he was fine, _every single time_. So today, I confronted him but he got angry and ran away. I don’t understand, he usually tells me everything…” His voice fails him once again.

“We need to find him immediately,” Lancelot says, his voice strained.  
    Leon nods and rises. “Come with us, Arthur. You know this area better than us.”

* * *

 

Merlin already regrets having shouted at Arthur. He didn’t want him to find out about his problems so his defences went right up.

‘I’ll go back – after I’ve drunk something,’ he decides while his legs carry him towards the nearest pub. He definitely needs something to calm his nerves; his hands are trembling and his skin crawls with the crave for the cold bite of his razor.

The cold autumn wind chills his cheeks and nose, and it has just started to become unbearable when finally arrives at the _Green Unicorn_. He feels calmer as soon as he’s entered the pub. This is a place he knows, it’s warm and the people are always friendly.

He’s just ordered a beer when someone taps his shoulder.  
    “What’re you doing here at this time of night?” Gwaine asks and sits down next to him. His face falls when he studies Merlin more closely.

“You look awful, mate.”

Merlin frowns. “Thank you.”

Gwaine puts up his hands in guilt. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. What happened?” He seems to realize something. “Shit, you’re not here to drink your problems away, right? That’s no good, I’ll tell you from experience. They’ll still be there in the morning.”

Merlin smiles lightly and takes another sip of his beverage. “No, I just need to calm my nerves and some distance from Arthur.” He winces when the confession slips out unbidden. It doesn’t need much alcohol to loosen his tongue, apparently.

Gwaine nods knowingly and pats his arm. “I understand. Did you guys quarrel?”

His words trigger something in Merlin and he suddenly feels tears trickle from his eyes. He’s able to supress the sobs that are rising in his throat, but his friend has already noticed. His face turns grim and he puts an arm around his shoulders.

“What did he do to you?” he asks with a snarl. Merlin looks at him in shock. Of course that’s what Gwaine’s thoughts go straight to. He’s always been protective of Merlin and still doesn’t really seem to trust Arthur to love anyone beyond himself.

“No, it’s nothing like that!” Merlin exclaims and quickly dries his tears and snot.

“What’s it like then?”

Merlin hesitates. How can he put it without telling him everything?  
    “He wanted to know something I didn’t wanna tell him and I got really angry because he asked. I dunno, maybe it was just a misunderstanding…”

And in this moment, Gwaine gets a suspicion of what might be going on. Merlin looks way too awful for just being angry and although Arthur’s a prick, he wouldn’t push his lover to tell him something he clearly doesn’t want to talk about.

“I’ll be right back, I gotta pee,” he excuses himself with an awkward grin and hurries to the bathroom. ‘I just want to go sure,’ he reassures himself and dials Arthur’s number.

* * *

 

They walk in silence, trying Merlin’s phone every ten minutes. He doesn’t pick up – unsurprisingly. Lancelot says that he can't have gotten far but Arthur’s not so sure. If he picked a cab, he could be at the other end of town for all they know. Worry creases his forehead.

“Is his GPS on?” Leon asks suddenly. “There’s a hotline you can call in emergencies.”

“It’s worth a try.” Arthur takes out his mobile and makes an attempt to open google, when **Gwaine calling…** suddenly flashes on the screen.

“Yeah?” he says briefly. He doesn’t have time for a chat right now.

“Mate, I heard you and Merlin had a fight…”

Arthur gasps. “Is he with you?” he practically yells and stops in his tracks.

“So you _didn’t_ know. That’s what I thought.” Gwaine lets out a sigh.

“Is he alright?” Lancelot asks into the speaker of the phone.

“He’s kinda down, but I’ll take good care of him, alright?”

Arthur could kiss him. “Thank you. Thank you so, _so_ -“

“Don’t overdo it with the gratefulness,” Gwaine laughs and ends the call.

Leon and Lancelot smile relieved. They walk Arthur back to the flat and Leon asks, “Do you need something? We can stay, you know.”  
    But Arthur refuses. “I’m alright now. I’ll talk to Merlin tomorrow – more sensitively, I promise.”

But when the door closes behind them, he wishes that he would’ve told them to stay. The silence he’s left with is upsetting. When he pours himself a glass of water, he’s almost reluctant to switch the water off, because then, he would be left with the loneliness again.

Eventually, he sits on the couch, determined to wait for his boyfriend’s return - but he falls asleep only minutes later, hugging a pillow, head resting on the armrest.

When Merlin comes home at four in the morning, tear tracks on his cheeks, Arthur’s still in the same position. He sits down next to him and looks at him with sad eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispers and kisses his cheek.

He goes to bed on his own, not wanting to wake Arthur from his peaceful sleep, but he doesn’t fall asleep until Arthur’s alarm goes off and he has to get up again.


	5. Threats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin opens up to Arthur and Uther finds out about Morgana.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for mentions of self harm.

Arthur gets ripped from his sleep by a clangour and a loud “Shit!”. He leaps up and looks around in confusion until he manages to shake the sleep from his body and realizes where he is. He curses when the events of last night come flooding back to him and runs into the kitchen.

Merlin is kneeling on the floor, frantically trying to clean up the mess he’s made, and jumps at Arthur’s voice.  
    “I was worried.” It’s calm and soothing but Merlin knows that he’s actually angry. Why wouldn’t he be – he’d left without an explanation and didn’t wake him when he got home.

“Come on, at least look at me?” his boyfriend says and takes a step forward. “I’m not kidding. Lance and Leon helped me look for you. You’re lucky that Gwaine had the apprehension to call or I would’ve called the police.”

Merlin feels anger boiling up in his chest and turns around, grabbing one of the slivers so tightly that it cuts his palm, but he’s too agitated to feel it. “Why do you keep digging? I know what you’re doing here but _I’m fine_! How many times do I have to tell you?” He’s yelling now. “Haven’t I always told you everything? Do you not trust-“

“Merlin-“

“Let me speak! You didn’t-”

“Merlin, STOP!” Arthur cries and grabs his bleeding hand. “You’re hurting yourself!” He grabs one of the towels from the sink and presses it on the shallow cut on his lover’s hand. Merlin freezes for a moment, staring at the blood as though it’s his first time seeing it.

“Even Gwaine knew you weren’t alright, and that’s a bloody miracle. I’m begging you, Merlin; tell me what’s wrong,” Arthur says and fights to control his emotions. He can’t cry right now; he needs to concentrate and not screw this up.

“We’ll be late for work,” Merlin whimpers. He’s somehow deflated and his eyes are sad.

“I don’t give a rat’s arse,” Arthur smiles and slowly lifts the towel. The bleeding has ceased.

Merlin closes his eyes, battling the screams inside his head.

_Don’t tell him! He’ll hate you! Just run away!_

“I’m just-“ Merlin chokes up before his voice breaks and tears start falling from his closed lids. He’s unable to swallow the painful knot in his throat and hazily feels Arthur’s arms wrap around his body.

And suddenly, he’s being carried into the bedroom and laid on the soft sheets of their bed.  
    “I’m calling you in sick,” Arthur mumbles and grabs his phone. Merlin doesn’t answer. There’s still screaming in his head, blocking out any other sounds. He covers his ears and suddenly he can smell a metallic scent on his fingers.

_A cold, hard punch. Warm blood sputters from his chest. He looks at the shooter and vaguely makes out his face before everything goes black. He feels for the wound and wonders why there’s no pain, when a scream rips through the cold night air and another gunshot cracks in his ears._

As soon as Arthur hangs up the phone, he hears Merlin’s erratic breathing and whimpering. His heart sinks and he turns around to the pale man on the bed. He’s covering his ears with his hands, eyelids tightly shut, his whole frame shaking.

“Jesus!” Arthur breathes and then shouts, “Merlin! I’m here, you’re safe; it’s me!” while hugging him tightly and rubbing his back in circles.

Eventually, Merlin calms down and his sobs fade.  
    “You were right,” he rasps and sniffles.

“Of course I was. Always am.”

Merlin chuckles - it sends Arthur’s heart flying - and says haltingly, “I’ve just been having a hard time the last few weeks.”

“Why didn’t you come to me? You _always_ come to me – I don’t understand!” Arthur immediately regrets putting it that way but Merlin doesn’t seem to mind.

“I wanted to, but then I remembered what you looked like when… you know…”

“Uhm, no, I don’t know,” Arthur replies confused.

“When you found me in the bathroom after I lost it.”  
  _Lost it_ was putting it nicely. He’d been cutting deep into his arms trying to forget that one night until he’d lost his consciousness and Arthur found him the next morning, pale and broken, screaming his name against the fog in his boyfriend’s head.

Arthur’s body immediately goes rigid.  
    Merlin knows he sometimes still has nightmares about it, waking up with a gasp and checking on Merlin with tears in his eyes. He’s forbidden him to lock the door ever since.

“Right.” His voice is strained and Merlin realizes that Arthur had never talked to him about it. He’s never come to him with his trauma, unlike Merlin who usually talks about every small thing with him.

“I’m so sorry, Arthur.”

And then, finally, Arthur tells him what has been on his mind for two years.  
    “When I woke up that morning I knew something was wrong; I could feel it. I felt that your side of the bed was cold and suddenly felt so _sick_. When I got to the bathroom, the door was locked and I kicked it in and you were just _lying there_ ,” His voice becomes elevated and he stumbles over the words, “in your own blood. Oh god, Merlin, the blood was _everywhere_ …”

His hands start trembling. Never before has he thought this intently about the incident but now that he feels Merlin’s lips on his, the gentle pressure of his tongue, it feels good to have gotten it off his chest. Merlin’s here and he’s alive.

They pull apart and Merlin apologizes again, but Arthur shushes him. “Thank you for telling me. Just… don’t cut yourself, alright?”

“I’ll try.” It's not what Arthur wants to hear, but it's the best Merlin can give him. 

* * *

 

Arthur shows up too late for work and Leon and Lance look at him knowingly, but they don’t disturb him until lunch break.

“So, how did it go?” Leon asks at the same time as Lancelot says, “You better tell me that Merlin’s alright.”

“It’s fine. We’re fine. We talked a lot and got it all sorted,” Arthur replies with a light smile.

The two men relax visibly. They follow Morgana and Morgause to the clearing – everyone else is working overtime – but stop in their tracks when someone is already sitting at their fireplace.  
    It’s Uther Pendragon and he’s furious.

“Hello,” he greets the squad with a dangerously shaky voice and Morgana and Arthur instantly shrink backwards. “I would like to talk to my two kids in private,” he says and grabs them by the arm, dragging them aside the clearing. Morgause, Lancelot and Leon followed them with their gazes.

“I have heard from reliable sources that you two are associating with gay people. I am giving you a fair warning to step down before it’s too late, understood?”

Arthur’s gone white as a sheet but Morgana just snorts. “We are not _associating with them_ , we actually _are_ gay, dad. And you better let us live our lives in peace.”

Uther’s face reddens. “Don’t talk to me in that tone, young lady!” he barks and lifts his finger. “Well, I’ve done what I could.” He turns around and tramples away.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Arthur says anxiously and turns to his sister. “He’s gonna do something!”

“Oh, really, and what would that be? He can’t do _anything_! Would break up with Merl just because he tells you to?”

Arthur shakes his head. “No, of course not, but-“

“Exactly. Not buts. Let’s just have lunch in peace.” She shoots him a reassuring smirk and joins their nervous looking friends.

“What the hell was that all about?” Leon exclaims as soon as they’ve sat down.

“Uther doesn’t approve of our fabulousness,” Arthur sighs and takes a bite from his sausage. The shock is still embedded in his heart but he tries to stay as calm as possible. He doesn’t want to worry his friends any more than they already are.

An hour and a half passes. They lie in the sunlight, trying to catch the last tan before the cold winter would return, when Arthur’s phone suddenly breaks the silence with its shrill ring.

**Merlin calling…**

“Bollocks,” he mumbles and picks up. “Merlin, is everything okay?”

He can hear a shaky exhale from the other end. “Uther was here.”


	6. The Nightmare From Under The Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur deals with Uther's aftermath.

The doorbell rings.

“One second!” Merlin shouts and hastily puts on some pajama pants – the green ones with the small red carrots on them. Arthur has gifted them to him for Christmas a year ago, laughing his arse off at his confused expression when he unpacked them.

‘Who could that be?’ he thinks and glares through the spyhole. His heart sinks. Standing in the grey hallway, eyes burning in his head like old coals, is none other than Uther Pendragon.

Merlin jerks back, frantically searching for a solution. Uther knows he’s here, so he won’t go away, but if he could just find his phone to call the police…

“Merlin Emrys, if you don’t let me enter this second, I’m going to make sure my son gets fired from his job because of a rape accusation!” the elder man yells and heavily pounds on the door.

Merlin feels real fear rising in his stomach. His vision starts to get blurry with tears. “You can’t do that!” he cries and takes another step back from the door. Where is his damn phone?

“I can and I will! Open the door, I just want to talk.” Merlin doesn’t believe him for one second but he knows how much influence Uther still has – even after leaving the company. If someone like him accused his own son of raping someone, the young man would lose his job _immediately_ , even if the allegation had been a lie.

So Merlin does the probably most stupid thing he could’ve done – he opens the gates and lets the enemy into the castle.

He is surprised by Uther’s apparent calm. Inwardly, he surely must be furious but he doesn’t let any of it show, putting on an over the years well-practiced front.

“Well? Won’t you offer me a drink?” he snarls and makes a vague gesture toward the kitchen. He’s in power and he knows it. He’ll be able to toy with Merlin however he prefers to. The young, pale man clangs with a few bottles before finding the unopened whiskey at the back of the cupboard. His fingers are shaking terribly and he nearly drops the glass. He has no idea how to get out of this.

“How long have you been seducing my son?” Uther asks after a sip of his drink.

Merlin shakes his head, careful to maintain the safe distance between them. “That’s not how this works!” he protests but he gets cut off by Uther lifting his hand.

“Hold your tongue!” he hisses, suddenly revealing his rage. “You know, I can can destroy both of your lives with less than ten words. All I have to do is call the right people and you'd end up on the streets, _do you understand_?”

Merlin nods with glassy eyes. The mere presence of Arthur’s father seems to have drained him from all the energy he’s regained after the talk with his lover this morning.

“That’s what I thought. If you value yours and Arthur’s life, you will be gone before he comes home tonight.”

“No!” Merlin cries in a sudden rush of hate and adrenalin and slams his flat hand on the table. He’s thrown against a fridge by the force of Uther’s slap. Burning pain explodes in his head and warm blood trickles from his nose into his slightly opened mouth. His stomach cramps with fear and he doesn’t dare to look up at the raging man in front of him.

“This is your last chance, Emrys.”

Merlin fights the panic attack until Uther’s closed the door behind him and he can hear his footsteps hastening away. But then, it hits him like a sledgehammer, forcing him to the ground, his heartbeat so fast and loud that he fears it might stop any second.

Through the blur of his panic, he’s able to make out a yellow thing lying in the hallway.  
  _My phone._ He manages to get to his feet, holding himself up on shaking legs, and stumbles towards it. When he unlocks it his breaths and heartbeat start to calm and as soon as he feels ready, he dials Arthur’s number.

“Merlin, is everything okay?” he hears his boyfriend’s voice from the other end lets out the breath he doesn’t realize he has been holding.

“Uther was here,” he says, fighting not to start sobbing right there and then. It wouldn’t help anyone; he could cry when everything’s sorted.

He can hear rustling and distant voices before Arthur says, “I’m coming home. Just stay there. He’s gone, right?”

“Yes,” Merlin says and takes a deep breath. Arthur is coming.

“Did he hurt you?” He can picture Arthur clamping his phone, worry and anger straining his beautiful face. Merlin considers lying so he wouldn’t be any more concerned but his tongue betrays him.

“Yes.”

“Badly?” Arthur’s voice is dangerously quiet.

“No. Arthur, he told me he would ruin our lives if I didn’t leave you right now. He will accuse you of rape if you do anything!” he yells and finally starts crying. There are more voices on the other end and he can make out the familiar beeping of Morgana’s computer.

“Listen, love; I don’t care what he threatened you with. Actually, it’s a good thing he told you everything. I’ll explain the whole situation to my boss and I’ll call the police. Just wait there for me, alright? I’ll be home in less than an hour, I promise,” Arthur soothes. His voice is so strong and optimistic that Merlin believes him in an instant.

Arthur ends the call and looks at his sister who’s handing him the phone with his boss on the other end.  
    “Mr Pendragon?” she says. “Your sister has just explained to me that your father is threatening your boyfriend, is everything alright?”

“No, Mrs Rodor. The reason I’m calling you is that Uther will accuse me of serious crimes, probably rape, or anything he can come up with. I beg you, you have to believe me, I’ve done no such things!”

He hears the smile in her voice. “Don’t you worry. I’ll give you the day off, and maybe tomorrow, too, if you’ll need it.”

“Thank you,” he says with a sigh of relief and turns to Gwaine, who looks at him with painful worry on his face.

“I’m gonna kill him,” he snarls, fists clenched and chin trembling.

“Not right now, Gwaine, but believe me, I feel the same,” Arthur replies and squeezes his friend’s shoulder. “I need you to call Eira and ask her to give him a few days off. Or the whole week, if she allows it.”  
    Gwaine nods and grabs his mobile. “I can do that.”

Arthur dials 999, but before he’s able to press the green button, Morgana places her hand on his. When he looks up, there are tears in her eyes.

“This is all my fault. I’m so sorry; I didn’t think about the consequences!” She starts crying and Arthur pulls her into a hug.

“He would’ve done this anyway, some day or another. I’ll never blame you and neither will Merlin, so please stop blaming yourself.” He rubs her back in circular motions as he usually does to Merlin to chase away the demons he’s facing.

Morgana nods and gives him a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll try. Tell Merl how much I love him.”

“I will.” Arthur flashes her a feeble smile and takes the phone to his ear.

“This is the police; how can we help you?”

* * *

 

He doesn’t make it in less than an hour. In fact, it takes him more than two hours to finally get home. The police woman on the phone told him to come to the station where he was able to postpone the interview to tomorrow, but it has been a huge detour.

He texts Merlin before he gets into the train.

**Arthur: I’m coming home now. Had to go to the station, sry bout that. Hang in there xx**

**Merlin: Ok**

**Arthur: They’ll send a patrol by every two hours. Ure safe**

Merlin’s **I’m scared** tears at Arthur’s heart. He replies with the picture of the two of them sharing ice cream – Merlin’s favourite photo.

**Merlin: :)**

Half an hour later, he finally arrives at their flat. Merlin’s already waiting in the hallway when he unlocks the door, and he looks terrible.

Arthur feels a painful sting in his heart area when his gaze wanders over the bloody tissues in Merlin’s nose and the crimson hand mark on his cheek. The bags under his eyes look like smudged eyeliner.

Without a word, the lanky man buries his face in the crook of his neck and Arthur wraps his arms around him. “I didn’t think he’d stoop to such lengths,” he whispers and hugs him a little tighter.

Merlin shakes his head. “No one did,” he croaks. A tremor goes through his body and he lifts his head. Blue meets blue and Arthur whispers, “I love you,” before putting his lips onto his partner’s.

Their kiss is gentle, lips brushing against each other life butterflies on flowers, a story of shared compassion and reassurance. They remain tangled up in each other for a long time, before they trust themselves to speak again.

It’s Merlin who interrupts the silence. “Let's get some coffee far away from here. Somewhere we've never been before.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we can all agree that homophobes are the scum of the earth, but Uther's on a whole new level.


	7. Agravaine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur's uncle turns up and threatens everything they love.

Arthur’s already dressed in a suit when Merlin wakes up. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and lazily blinks into the sunlight.

“Yesterday was wonderful,” the blond says with a smile while he does his tie. “I didn’t even know there _was_ a cat café in London!”

Merlin chuckles. “I enjoyed it too. Do I have to come with you to the police station?”

“Yes, they also have some questions for you,” Arthur replies. He walks over to the bed and sits down next to him. “I’m so glad that I don’t have to go through this alone,” he says and gives his boyfriend a long kiss.

“I’ll get dressed, then,” Merlin yawns and staggers towards the kitchen. “But first, breakfast.”

As he’s pouring himself a glass of milk, the doorbell fills their flat with a shrill ring. Merlin can’t help but to flinch violently and Arthur gently places his hand on his arm. “I’ll get that,” he says calmly and shoots him a reassuring smile. But his tense shoulders show his nervousness, and Merlin can see that his chin is trembling when he unlocks the door after checking the spyhole.

“Arthur!” a cold voice greets. In walks a middle-aged man with brown, long hair and an odd smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. Merlin immediately dislikes him.

“This is my uncle Agravaine,” Arthur explains with a frown. He doesn’t seem to be very fond of him, either.

“So this is Mr Emrys…” Agravaine looks him over, his mouth a thin line, and then turns back to his nephew. “Uther is giving you a final warning, Arthur. If either of you testify against him today, he _will_ destroy everything you care about.”

“But… he’s in custody,” Merlin says confused and looks at Arthur, whose gaze is still fixed on his uncle.

“He’s a very powerful man, Mr Emrys. Got his strings everywhere and anywhere. I suggest you split up right now, so we can all go our ways.”

Aghast, Merlin takes a step back. He can feel a panic attack making its way up his throat; his heartbeat starts to quicken and his arms feel numb. He stares at his lover for answers, _any_ answers, but Arthur’s gaze is devastated and fixed on the ground to his feet.

“No,” he spits and clenches his fists. Beads of sweat roll down his cheek.

“Merlin,” Arthur chokes out, eyes pleading him for forgiveness, “pack your things.”

“NO!” Merlin cries and stumbles towards him. What has happened to their mutual promise of fighting against Uther? What has happened to Arthur, who usually is so strong?

Agravaine watches the whole scene with a content smirk on his face. The young, raven-haired man seems to be very upset; he’s choking back his tears, runs into the bedroom and slams the door behind him.

“I’ll help him pack,” Arthur mumbles, voice hoarse, and makes an attempt to follow him, but Agravaine steps into his way. “You will do no such thing. And I will take your phone.” He expectantly extends his hand and hums pleased when Arthur hands it to him.

Merlin leans against the closed door, dizzily using it as support. Why is Arthur obeying that disgusting man? He pulls out his phone and dials the only number he still knows by heart.

“Merlin? Is that you?”

“Gaius!” he sobs and starts to yank out his underwear from the closet.

“What’s wrong, my boy?” the old man’s voice is collected and calm, but it can’t soothe him right now.

“I’ll explain later. C-Can I sleep over, please?”

“Of course, anytime you need to. You know that.”

“I’ll b-be there soon,” Merlin sniffles and hangs up.

When he opens the door, Arthur’s standing in front of him, waiting.

“You are such a coward!” Merlin yells and slaps him with all the strength in his shaky hand. “After four years, that’s just it? You’re sending me away because you’re scared of your father? What kind of relationship is that?”

Arthur doesn’t even flinch. “Where will you go?” he rasps. When Merlin just huffs out an exasperated sigh, he grabs his wrist and whispers, “Please. I’ll find a way to fight this, just wait for me, alright?”

Merlin swallows back the lump in his throat. “The pharmacy,” he whispers back, “but if you fight, I want to be by your side.”

“I’ll come by as soon as possible,” the blond says.

After a quick glance to the hallway, he cups Merlin’s face in his hands and kisses him desperately, salty tears mixing with their warm mouths.

Then he storms out, backpack barely full, anger and sadness in his eyes. He still doesn’t understand what just happened but he clings to the thought of Arthur’s visit sooner or later.

* * *

 

Luckily, Gaius’s house is just about twenty minutes from Arthur’s flat, and with running he manages the short distance in ten. Terribly out of breath and lungs burning, he storms into the pharmacy.

As soon as Gaius sees him, he hurries to the door and changes the sign to _We’re closed!_

“Oh, Merlin,” he sighs and wraps his arms around him. The young man’s heart feels cold and heavy with fear and anger, and he sobs into his uncle’s shoulder.  
    “Tell me, what happened?”

And Merlin tells him everything, voice raspy and eyes still full of tears. About Uther’s threats, his appearance at their flat, the police thing and Agravaine.

Gaius’ eyes darken. “I know Agravaine; he’s worked with his brother-in-law for many years in an illegal underground network – or so I suspect. Perhaps something to do with drugs or the mafia. Uther has always had his temper, but it became very bad when he started working with that _devil_ …”

Merlin swallowed. “So he could really carry his words into effect?”

“I’m afraid so. If you want to continue spending your life with Arthur, we will have to figure something out to bypass their network.”

Merlin immediately feels bad for acting so angry towards his boyfriend. He knows how dangerous his father and uncle were, that’s why he's so scared.  
    “He said he’ll come by sometime later.” He pauses for a moment, taking off his coat and neckerchief and cleans his nose. “I just hope it’s soon. I hope he’s alright.”

“He’s done everything they’ve asked for, right? Uther will trust his own son if he plays his role well enough,” Gaius says and squeezes his shoulder reassuringly. “Be patient. I know you two will get through this, I’ve seen enough how you two lovebirds look at each other. Come on up, I’ll make you some tea.”

Merlin just nods. Exhaustion makes its way through his body; a kind of numbing fatigue he only knows too well. As he waits for the kettle to boil, he starts to shiver, although he actually feels so _hot_. His vision gets slightly blurry. He clings to the table, pulling in one shaky breath after the other, but his heartbeat doesn’t calm.

This morning has just been too stressful and scary, especially after such an awful couple of weeks. The smell of blood suddenly locks itself in his nostrils and when he looks down at his hands, there is crimson everywhere, seeming to emerge from his pores, dripping onto the white tiles and leaving scarlet smears around his feet.

He cries out, jerks back and painfully bangs his hip on the edge of the table. When he looks back at his fingers, the blood is gone.

“Merlin?” Gaius pops into the kitchen, forehead crinkled with worry. His relaxes when he sees his nephew holding his hip and cursing at the big wooden table in the middle of the room. “I’ll go back downstairs, just shout if you need anything. _Anything_ , Merlin; I mean it!”

Merlin nods and smiles feebly. “Okay. I’ll eat some of your cereal.”

“You do that.”

As soon as his uncle has disappeared into the shop, Merlin’s knees give in under his weight and he sinks to the floor. “I won’t do it, I won’t do it…” he chants and buries his face in his hands while trying to take deep breaths.

It would be so easy. Just a little blood, a short sharp pain and he would feel better, calmer. He opens the knife drawer and stares at the shiny metal blades. The grin at him, seem to scream at him when he grabs one.

“I’m sorry, Arthur,” he whispers. His salty tears mix with the blood on his arm.


	8. Preparations For War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Merlin talk a lot and decide their next move against Uther and Agravaine.

It’s noon when Merlin finally wakes up, his sheets sticking to the scabs on his arm. He groans and pulls free, re-opening the cuts. He already regrets what he’s done but it’s too late now.

And then, suddenly, the events of yesterday come crashing down on him and he feels a painful sting in his heart area. Agravaine. Uther.

_Arthur._

He bites the back of his hand to muffle his sobs and closes his eyes shut to prevent the tears from spilling. 'Yes, Uther is his father, but what if he’s hurt him? What, if he is-'

Something very icy clamps his heart and Freya’s bloodcurdling scream fills his ears. It isn’t a full-blown flashback but he can’t get the image of Arthur’s lifeless, bloody body out of his mind.

Gaius knocks at his door. “It’s half twelve, Merlin. I think you should get up.”

“Coming!” he shouts through the closed door although he has no intention of moving. His bed is warm, his arm and head hurt and getting up would mean facing a new day. A day where loving Arthur meant living dangerously. He curses under his breath and buries his face in his pillow. _We’re in the 21st century, damnit._

An hour later, he’s still in the same position. Gaius returns and Merlin can hear him rustling uncomfortably in front of his room, not sure whether to disturb him or not.  
    “Come now, my boy. This isn’t going to do you any good.” When he doesn’t reply, the old man opens the door and steps into the dimly lit bedroom.

Too late, Merlin realizes that his arms are bare, laid out for the whole world to view, while the blood is beginning to clot on the cuts. He flinches and quickly tries to hide them under the sheets but it’s already too late. Gaius’ brows furrow when he catches a glimpse of the wounds and he sits down on the edge of the bed.

“Show me that arm of yours, please,” he requests politely but there is an order in his eyes and, feeling more naked than ever before, Merlin uncovers it, gaze fixed on the ground. He expects a sharp intake of breath, a cry of disgust, _something_ – but there’s nothing.

Gaius wordlessly hurries into the bathroom and returns with antiseptic and bandages, his face a professional mask. He cleans the skin and wraps the arm.

“How long have you been doing this, Merlin?” he asks and squeezes his hand.

“I-I haven’t,” Merlin stutters, “not in a long time. I’ve stopped, but this- it was all too much…” He supresses another sob and chews on his bottom lip.

“You never told me.” There’s no hurt or anger in Gaius’ voice but guilt still floods Merlin like a cold ocean wave.

“I know. Took me a long time to tell Arthur, too.”

The old man lets go of his hand and grabs the young man’s chin, forcing him to look into his eyes.  
    “It’s alright, my boy. We all have our addictions. I don't need to tell you how bad this is. You can come to me anytime, you hear?”

Merlin nods, all choked up. “Thanks,” he mumbles and forces himself to smile a bit.

“Let’s get some food in your stomach.”

* * *

 

Merlin’s reading _Oliver Twist_ when Gaius walks up from the shop with Arthur in tow. He’s terribly pale, sporting a purple bruise on his cheek and he’s sweating and panting, like he’s been running here.

Merlin leaps up from the couch but doesn’t dare to approach his boyfriend. Arthur stares at him, sadness and fear in his eyes and the raven-haired man finds himself not having a clue how to deal with him in this state.

Finally, Arthur steps forward and cups Merlin’s face in his hands, kissing him wildly. Gaius disappeared downstairs again, the worry still present on his face. He finds himself checking front door ever so often for people who walk by suspiciously often, but it doesn’t seem like Arthur has been followed.

“Oh god, I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am…” Arthur begins with glassy eyes, but Merlin interrupts him in a soft voice, “It wasn’t your fault.” Then, suddenly, there’s rage in his eyes and he warily traces the painful flower on Arthur’s cheek.

“I’ll kill them all,” he whispers, voice thick and fingers trembling. Arthur takes his hands and shakes his head.

“Percy’s brother works as a detective here in town. We can trust him. I also called Morgana and Morgause, Gwen and Lance, Leon, Gwaine and Elyan.”

“All of our friends,” Merlin states astonished.

“Yes.” Arthur smiles for the first time in twenty-four hours. “The more people know about it, the better. That’s how you defeat a grand organisation – with the power of the masses.”

Merlin feels like a ton has been lifted from his chest. Finally, there is hope. He lets out a relieved laugh and flings his arms around his lover’s neck.  
    “I didn’t dare to think that you would come,” he whispers into his ear and feels Arthur’s arms tensing around him.

“I’ll always love you,” he replies and buries his head in the crook of Merlin’s neck. His stomach growls and he pulls free with an apologetic grin. “I think I might be hungry,” he says and makes his way into the kitchen. Merlin follows him on his heels and suggests, “There’s leftover pizza.”

The blond groans with pleasure and devours the three pieces in less than five minutes. His lips are red with tomato sauce and Merlin cheekily cleans them with a kiss.  
   

“Oh, you….” Arthur chuckles, grabbing Merlin’s arms and pulling him closer to him, when he suddenly feels him go rigid and resist his wordless suggestion.

Arthur frowns and slumps back into his chair. “I’m sorry,” Merlin mumbles and gets up, making an indication to go upstairs.

“Wait,” Arthur says and leaps up. The chair screeches backwards, nearly tipping over, and steps into his boyfriend’s way. “What’s wrong?” When Merlin doesn’t answer, gaze fixed on the ground, he tries again, “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

When he finally looks up, his face is full of guilt and his jaw is clenched, supressing the tears rising behind his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says, nearly too quiet for Arthur to pick up.

The penny drops. The silence hanging in the air is oddly thick and neither of them dares to move. They remain in the hallway, face to face, their thoughts desperately searching for the right words to say.

After thousands of years, Arthur finally breaks the ice. “Show me. Please.”

Merlin gasps. His fingers tremble so violently that he struggles to unwrap the bandages and Arthur has to help. He wordlessly removes them and gently traces the relatively shallow cuts that decorate the pale skin. He tries to hide the disappointment on his face but Merlin has already picked up on it and the tears start falling.

“No, don’t cry…” he soothes but Merlin weeps inconsolably, breath hitching in his chest and shoulders heaving. It feels like he hasn’t properly cried like this in ages, and now his body is trying to wash out all the bad and toxic thoughts in his mind.

Arthur understands – he always understands. He can’t help a tear or two of his own when he presses Merlin against his chest and kisses his cheek. 

When they both feel better, Merlin says, “We should probably do something against Uther now,” and Arthur agrees. They need a good plan, and they need Percy’s brother, Tor, so they arrange a meeting with him at the station.

They leave an hour later; Arthur takes a cab and Merlin walks, accompanied by Gaius. They can’t to be seen together right now; they won’t take any risks.


	9. Old Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Tor come up with a plan and Arthur has a nightmare.

Tor, as it turns out, is incredibly helpful. He’s just as tall as his brother Percy but his hair is much darker and he’s not half as muscly. He’s only heard of Uther Pendragon’s underground network a few times but it’s, apart from Arthur of course, the most anyone knows.

They meet in a small, dark room where the walls wouldn’t have ears and no one would disturb them.

Merlin is silent while Arthur does most of the talking.

“If we can’t take the entirety of it down we want to at least have protection from them,” the blond explains. “My father and Uncle are the only ones I know of that are strongly homophobic but since they’ve got control over the whole thing, everyone there’s a threat.”

Tor sighs. “As it always is with mafia, I don’t have anything else than a vague idea of the size of it, but I know for certain that there’s nothing outside England.”

“Good; very good. So, no Ireland and Scotland?”

Tor shakes his head and smiles humourlessly. “That doesn’t make it particularly small,” he remarks. “Other important members I know of are Mr Eridian and Mr Cenred. Eridian works in court so we would have to neutralise him in some way.”

They talk about a lot of things Merlin doesn’t quite understand because their dialogue is spiked with technical terms he’s never heard of before, and he can’t concentrate on their words. But since neither Tor’s nor his boyfriend’s face light up in any way he assumes that it’s not looking particularly good – why should it, couldn’t be easy to take up about fifty very powerful people.

His thoughts travel back to this morning, the way that Gaius reacted to his injuries. He’s never expected him to take it this well; he’s had himself prepared for a proper scolding but instead his uncle has shown him nothing but kindness.

Every other couple, even with difficult parents, don’t have to take out an underground network first to be together and it’s so unfair that he wants to cry and scream. He fumbles around with his fingers, pulls at a few loose strings on his jumper, rearranges his fringe about one thousand times, chews on his fingernails, scratches white patterns with his fingernails into his pale skin. He decides to talk to Arthur at home.

* * *

 

They leave the station a few hours later, separated again of course, but they meet back at the pharmacy at five.

Merlin’s just put an instant pizza into the oven and impatiently waits for the ten minutes to be over when Arthur walks into the kitchen. The blond comes over to him and longingly kisses his neck. Merlin turns around but sidesteps his lips so that they land on his cheek instead. Arthur looks up, confused.

“What is it?” he asks with a frown.

“You’ve worked out a fabulous plan with Tor. I’m very thankful for that. But it doesn’t really involve me.” He’s aware of how bitterly reproachful he sounds. “I've _told_ you I wanted to fight by your side.”

Arthur awkwardly scratches the back of his head and lowers his gaze to the floor. “I don’t… I don’t want you to get hurt,” he admits and Merlin huffs out an exasperated sigh.

“Yeah, thanks, same to you.”

“It’s different with me, though,” Arthur says and now looks directly into Merlin’s eyes, confidence back on his features, “he’s my father. He’d never dare to hurt me.”

He would if you’d show him how gay you really are, Merlin wants to say but he knows better than to strain the situation any further and keeps his mouth shut. Arthur is kind of right and it annoys him. He doesn’t want to be left sitting at home like a worried housewife whose husband has gone to war.

Arthur tries for a kiss again and this time, Merlin doesn’t turn away. They’d talk about it later.

The beeping from the oven interrupts their actions of affection.

“What kind of topping?” Arthur asks. His stomach growls while he sits the table.

“Margherita,” he gets as an answer, rolls his eyes and tells his boyfriend how boring he is. Merlin just smiles and sticks out his tongue.

At eight, they get a call from Morgana and Morgause.

“We’re worried,” they say.    

“What if they come for us first?” they ask.

Arthur vaguely tells them what Tor and him are going to do but it doesn’t reassure them very much. Morgana complains about how unsafe the details of it are, how one wrong move would uncover everything, and Morgause immediately demands to be a part of it. Merlin feels better when Arthur turns her down, too.

“The less people the better. We just need you to know about it, alright?”

The only reason the phone call doesn’t end in a fight is because Morgana doesn’t want to regret anything if this were the last time she speaks to him.

* * *

 

Arthur wakes with a start, sheets in his clenched hands and beads of sweat running down his face and back. The dregs of his nightmare are still imprinted on the back of his eyelids – Merlin, lying unconscious on the bloody bathroom tiles, the only indication that he’s still alive the slow, shallow rising and falling of his chest.

He sits up on the mattress, knees drawn to his chest, arms wrapped around them and his head buried in the space his limbs create. _Just concentrate on your breathing_ , he tells himself in a desperate attempt to calm down, _That’s it. In and out. In and…_

Merlin’s side of the bed is empty.

His heart contracts so painfully that it feels like he’s having a heart attack. In a sudden rush of complete and utter panic he jumps to his feet and screams his lover’s name while running in the direction of the bathroom door.

But before he’s able to tear it open, probably ripping it from its hinges in the process, a very sleepy Merlin opens the door and yawns.

“S’goin on,” he mumbles but the exhaustion gives way to worry immediately when he notices Arthur’s scared expression.

The blond remains a few metres from the door and closes his eyes. “You’re alright,” he whispers and rubs his hand over his face.

Guilt cuts through Merlin like a knife when he realizes what this is all about. He takes a hesitant step towards his boyfriend and wraps his arms around him.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, tears stinging in his eyes, and Arthur hugs back, his grip firm ad warm. He doesn’t reply.

The go back to bed together and fall asleep hand in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was way too lazy to work Arthur's plan out, that's why I'm keeping it so vague. Maybe I'll think about it some more later... 
> 
> (A.N.: I never did)


	10. A Sister's Worries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgana comes over. That's it, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a mess 'cause I'm a mess.  
> 

_When Merlin awakes, it’s to an empty other side of the bed. Arthur’s clanging with some dishes in the kitchen – probably emptying the dishwasher – so he gets up and quickly dresses in some old sweatpants to help him._

_He walks down the hallway into the kitchen only to find it completely empty. He frowns. Where could he have gone? He suddenly realizes that he can still hear the noises right next to his ear and jerks back. Un unnaturally large amount of sweat is running down his neck and back and starts to moisten his pants._

_There’s still no one there – but the noises, oh the noises are everywhere, filling his ears like with a ringing buzz, shaking him to his very bones…_

Merlin gasps and opens his eyes. “Just a dream,” he mutters with relief. An unpleasant one, yes, but still just a dream.

One part was true, though; Arthur’s side of the bed is empty. But there’s no noises from the kitchen and he can’t help but to feel relieved for a moment before remembering that this means that they have started with their plan. Arthur is on his way to his father’s mansion right now.

He sighs annoyed and puts on a shirt (he doesn’t dare to touch the sweatpants) that’s so big that it reaches his knees. He’s told his partner to wake him before he’d leave because he wanted to come along, but of course, _of bloody course_ , he hasn’t woken him.

He can’t deny that in this moment he hates Arthur, just a little bit. He twists his face and pours himself some cereal into a bowl, followed by milk and blueberries from the fridge. The sun shines in through the window; he looks at the little specks of dust dancing in the white beam of light and instantly has the overwhelming urge to sneeze.

Arthur would have laughed at him, and maybe decorated his shoulder with a punch, but Arthur’s on an important mission to save their relationship and be a hero. He sighs again. It’s not fair.

He calls Gwen and asks her to come over but she's working.

He calls Eira and tells her that he’s coming to work but she refuses to let him into the library until the whole thing’s over.

He calls Lance, Gwaine and even Leon, but they’re all busy or don’t pick up their phone at all. The only person who finally has pity on him is Morgana.

“Merl!” she exclaims happily and asks about Arthur. When he tells her he’s gone out already, her anger is palpable and he immediately feels connected to her.

“Can you come over?” he asks.

She pauses for a moment, probably weighing whether or not she can risk it with Uther hanging over their lives like a looming shadow. “Yeah, alright. Let’s wait for news from Art together.”

She arrives an hour later, a bag of food in her left hand and a blanket in the other. Merlin eyes her up in confusion.

“You brought a _blanket_? Why?”

She looks at him almost irritated and most definitely huffy. “Do you have comfy blankies? No. No, you don’t. And I wanna resemble a cocoon while eating crisps today,” she snaps and slumps onto the sofa.

‘She’s obviously still pissed at Arthur,’ Merlin thinks and sits down next to her.

She turns towards him and offers him a chocolate bar she’s just opened. “So, how have you been doing?”

He flashes her his most convincing grin. “Good. Well. Not too bad. Working and stuff, you know.”

Her green eyes are like ice and seem to stare directly into his soul. “You haven’t been to the library for a while,” she deadpans, “I’ve just spoken to Eira. Arthur called you in sick and then this whole thing with dad happened. I don’t believe you for a second.”

His smile dies down and he nervously licks his lips. “Listen, I don’t really want to talk ab-“

She grabs his hands, leaving traces of chocolate on his fingers, and shakes her head. “I know how you feel, remember? I _understand_. And I’m worried. Please tell me what happened.”

Merlin hesitates. The scars on her wrist are still clearly visible, a souvenir from darker times, just like his. She’s not lying – she _would_ understand – but he doesn’t like opening up to people. Took him ages with Arthur, and even though he’s known Morgana for a few years now, he doesn’t know her very well.

“Nothing happened, Morgana, life’s just been a bit hard on me lately,” he eventually says and hopes that it satisfies her. It doesn’t.

“Hard how?”

_Oh, for fuck’s sake._

“I don’t know. I’ve just not been doing very well, and then there was Uther and Agravaine, so that didn’t help…” Unlike talking to Arthur, telling her doesn’t make him feel better. Her eyes aren’t as gentle as her brother’s and her hands are uncomfortably warm in his own.

The buzzing of the phone saves him. It’s Arthur, and Morgana picks it up before Merlin has the chance.

“Hello, Prince Arthur,” she singsongs sweetly, “Yeah, we’re both fine… I’m glad! … Yeah, laters.” She hands Merlin his phone.

“He wants to talk to you,” she says.

“Of course he does,” he mutters. “Arthur?”

“Merlin!” Arthur’s voice is like sunlight on a dark day, making his brain all warm and fuzzy with love and relief.

“How are you?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Sorry for taking off today but I guess you know my reasons…”

Merlin grumbles something inaudible but he’s not angry anymore and Arthur knows it.  
“How are you? is Morgana annoying you a lot?”

“She’s not _too_ bad,” Merlin grins and moves into the kitchen so the black-haired woman can’t pry about.

“Oh, that sounds _great_.” He can hear the blond chuckle. “Things are going okay here. I’ll be home at about one am. I’d tell you not to wait for me but you’re going to anyway…” He pauses for a moment, hesitation so tangible in his next words that it tears at Merlin’s heart.

“I’m scared. What if they follow me? What if everything goes wrong?”

Merlin feels exactly the same but he just now realizes what he’s been staying here for - to motivate and encourage him – so he says, “Well, I’m not. I know you’ll do it. It’ll all work out.”

He can practically hear his lover’s smile through the phone. “Okay. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Well, that was cheesy.” Morgana leans against the doorframe, arms folded and one eyebrow cocked. Merlin should’ve known she would would follow him but he tries not to be annoyed at her – after all, she’s just as worried as he is.

“I’ll make us some tea,” he offers and fills the kettle just as someone enters the flat. He can hear the door to the pharmacy slam shut and, heart in his throat, he grabs the handle firmer. Morgana looks at him in an odd way and remarks, “It’s Gaius, Merlin.”

And she’s right. He feels a bit ashamed at how he hasn’t been able to control his emotions. The old man steps into the kitchen and immediately notices the strange atmosphere that fills the room.

“Morgana, could I talk to my nephew alone for a moment, please?” The woman nods and leaves the kitchen. It’s quite obvious that she would really like to know what they’ll be talking about but she also loves Gaius too much not to respect his wishes.

“Sit down, my boy, I want to ask you something.”


	11. Are You Happy, Merlin?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all seems to be going well until it isn't.

After explaining the whole plan to Gaius, Merlin suddenly feels incredibly exhausted. His eyelids are weighing tons and threaten to fall shut at any moment. But he can’t fall asleep now. He has sent Morgana away because she was annoying him too much to bear right now with her prying questions. He wants to stay awake until Arthur comes home. He wants to hug him, kiss him, tell him how proud he is of him, but his head practically settles itself in the nest he has formed with his arms. Before the darkness swallows him he can still hear Gaius’ voice in his mind.

_Are you happy, Merlin? Do you think about the future sometimes?_

His dreams are confusing and clouded and he wakes up with a start to a clangour and a soft curse. He’s not sitting in the chair anymore; someone has carried him onto the couch and is now clattering with some cutlery in the kitchen.

Arthur.

Merlin jumps up and hurries into the white-tiled room, biting his nails until he can occupy his fingers with the shirt of his boyfriend.

“How did it go?” he asks – unnecessarily, because they have already chatted just twelve hours ago. The blond simply nods and continues to make himself dinner.

“Could’ve been worse.” That doesn’t sound too good but Merlin shoves the uneasy feeling deep down and pours himself a bowl of cereal – not because he’s hungry but rather so he can keep Arthur company.

Quiet, so they don’t wake Gaius, they talk. Their whispers travel through the hallway and echo from the stone walls like wind in a summer forest.

And then their lips finally meet; their kisses - hesitant at first, trying not to overstrain the other - grow more passionate as time passes. They only separate to catch their breath. Neither of them can really explain why they’re suddenly carving the other’s affection so hard but it has been a hard day for both of them.

But after only a few minutes Arthur pulls away, lips bright red and puffy. “Enough,” he pants and wipes his mouth. Merlin can’t hide the disappointed look on his face.

“Why?” he asks, disappointment and lust palpable in his voice.

“I’m too… I need some time, Merl.” There is something odd in his voice and the raven-haired man is taken aback. And then he suddenly realises that it’s fear. Anger churns his stomach.

“They’re not constantly watching us, Arthur,” he mumbles frustrated and sits back into his chair, shoulders hanging. “I’ve waited for you all day…” He’s aware of how childish his behaviour is but he allows it full bent.

Arthur sighs and rubs his hands over his eyes. “I know, I’m sorry. I just can’t shake the feeling that we’re being observed.”

Merlin’s annoyed look quickly melts into sympathy and he gently begins to massage his lover’s hands. 

“We’re not being watched. And we’re gonna win this, I know it.”

“How can you be so confident? We’re outnumbered three to probably about five thousand.” Arthur narrows his eyes and hopelessly shakes his head.

Merlin tries for a smile. “Only fools would try it. That’s why they’ll never expect us to.”

“Dad sure liked having me around for dinner. He even bought my apology and everything,” the blond mutters and matches Merlin’s smile with his.

“It’s the middle of the night, let’s go to bed,” Merlin suggests just as the cuckoo clock calls twice. Arthur nods and staggers up the stairs, eyes half-shut and knees weak. “Now that you say it, I’m exhausted,” he mumbles and lets out a yawn. Merlin stifles one of his own and follows him.

They brush their teeth, undress, then bury themselves under an enormous pile of blankets. Merlin keeps telling himself how it could’ve been worse, but the constant frown on his fellow’s brow sobers his hopeful mood.

“Look-,” he starts but suddenly realises that he has no idea how to finish his sentence. He’s out of ideas, his head is empty yet filled with anger and frustration. It’s wrong of him to feel this way, he knows – Arthur’s just had a hard day and of course he’s not doing well, considering that he’s going against his own father, but he wants him to feel better so bad that it tears at his heart.

“I’ll be fine, Merlin, relax,” he hears a muffled voice next to him. Arthur turns to face him and smiles. “Just sleep, alright? I promise, I’ll wake you tomorrow, not like today.”

That’s enough to calm him. Merlin closes his eyes and falls into a deep, dream-ridden sleep.

* * *

 

Merlin wakes up at seven because of Arthur’s alarm clock. He’s already selecting the right tie to match his suit and greets a very sleepy Merlin with a grin.

“Your hair is kinda…” He indicates a vague gesture with his free hand, “sticking out everywhere.”

Merlin groans and buries his face in the pillow. His “Shut up, you twat” comes out muffled and Arthur lets out a laugh. It fills up the whole room like rays of golden sunlight.  
‘Golden. Like his hair,’ Merlin thinks and can’t help the corners of his mouth pulling upwards.

“There we go.” Arthur’s voice is suddenly right next to his ear. “You already look so much better.” And he kisses his smile. Their mouths linger on each other for a while, not moving, just absorbing the other’s warmth. Until it’s time for Arthur to leave.

Merlin walks around the house until his stomach starts growling angrily and he figures he really needs to eat something or it’s going to be cramps. He grabs the left-over pasta from yesterday and eats it bare. After he’s finished it all, he continues to pace around the flat until he can’t take it anymore.

“Yes, hello?” Eira sounds almost annoyed at him for calling her.

“Let me come back. I’m bored shitless. C’mon, be my friend here.”

She sighs. “Alright, but as soon-“ He hangs up before she can finish her sentence, with radiant hope in his chest and a content humming in his throat. _Finally_.

* * *

 

The smell of books and rugs fills his nostrils. He inhales a deep lungful of library air and stretches. Someone tickles his exposed stomach and he immediately covers it with a squeal, eyes fixing on his boss. “It’s good to have you back,” she comments and hands him a pile of plastic film. Rolling his eyes, Merlin takes it to the office and starts wrapping new books.

He used to hate doing this when he started out here, but now it brings him great satisfaction. He enjoys repeating the same motions over and over, getting into a flow until time races and the beating of his heart is as calm as when he’s asleep.

By the time he’s finished it’s mid day and Eira reminds him to eat lunch. Hesitantly, he pulls out the dog-eared fiver he brought with him and walks to the nearest supermarket.

There’s too many choices to pick from, as usual, and he goes for a banana yogurt because he’s still full from his late breakfast.

He’s just licked his spoon clean when his phone buzzes aggressively in his pocket. He almost drops the empty cup and nearly squashes his hand trying to wriggle his phone free from his pocket with two fingers.

**Arthur calling…**

He’s not sure if he should worry or not. This could just be an I miss you call. Or it could be a Goodbye my lover call. With almost anxious hope for the first he presses the small device against his ear.

“Arthur?”

The other end of the line is buzzing and crackling. Arthur says something Merlin is unable to understand.

“I can’t hear you!”

There’s another crackle and then, suddenly, he can hear him crystal clear. He almost jumps at how his partner’s voice is laced with desperation.

“It’s all gone wrong. They’re coming for you. Run, Merlin, please. Please, for the love of everything, _run_!”

And then the line is dead and Merlin runs.


	12. Run Like A Rabbit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Arthur run, hoping to meet somewhere on the way.

Arthur ducks behind one of the giant dumpsters outside the house – the only place he knows for sure no camera on Uther’s property is able to view – and wonders how he could’ve been so blind all his life. His father has always been sort of a vacant shell; it’s been hard to know what’s on his mind, but never has he shown hate _this_ strong towards anyone.

But right there and then, at the lunch table, talking about the downfall of Bernie Sanders, his eyes cleared up and he looked at his son with a strange suspicion on his face. It was then that Arthur knew he’d fucked up, even if he had no idea how or when.

So he got up and ran, and called Merlin, and ran, and opened a door, and ran.  
    “Merlin,” he told him, “I don’t know why but he,” he needed to gasp for air, “suspects something.” With the jammer in the middle of the house, he had no idea how well Merlin would actually hear him, but eventually, it sounded like he got through so he hung up and burst outside.

He knows that it’s only a matter of time until they find him, but he also knows that Uther would never hurt him in any way – he’d rather banish him from the continent, probably. No, it’s Merlin who’s in danger. He’s the one he needs to get to. Unfortunately, he’s in a too disadvantageous position to do that so he stays there, crouched in the dirt, until some solution will appear magically.

* * *

 

There’s the underground, the cabs, busses – all things Merlin doesn’t dare to use. You never know who you might meet in there. So he sticks to the dirty side alleys, where the filth of London spreads like a disease, where the people are skinny and pale and where he starts shaking with fear.

But that is why they would never suspect him to go here. Uther probably knows everything there is to know about him. Including his past, which means including the two gunshots that had cracked through that quiet fateful night, destroying the lives of two people and everyone around them.

He gets ominous looks, hateful glares from the homeless. He isn’t one of them so they don’t trust him. And he’s not sure if he trusts himself either. Clutching his phone in the pocket of his jumper, he walks through labyrinths, constantly checking for… well, he doesn’t know. People following him? Uther? Agravaine? A man with a gun?

One time, there’s a golden bush of hair and he lets out a choked sob, but it turns out not to be his boyfriend. Grey, drug-clouded eyes stare at him and he jerks backwards. A few seconds later, he curses himself for being so naïve. Of course it isn’t Arthur; why would life be so kind to him?

“Hush,” the blond suddenly croaks and puts his index finger on his lips. Merlin carefully glances back and sees a female figure leaning against the wall, smoking. And she hasn’t been there before. Dark curls fall over her shoulders and her eyes are very blue, just Arthur’s and his own. He takes a step towards her, his body filled with foolish curiosity, before he remembers what he’s supposed to do. So he turns around and continues walking.

By the time he’s taken three right turns she’s still following him, so he stops. It’s stupid, he knows, but he won’t run from her. He’s sick of hiding. He’s sick of being weak. So Merlin Emrys does something very courageous and stops in his tracks. She’s been walking behind him so closely now that she nearly bumps into him.

“What do you want?” His voice is shaking even though he’s trying his best to pull himself together.

“To do what Uther wants me to do,” she replies lazily, almost like this is boring to her, almost like she has to get up from the couch rather than pull out a gun and pointing it at the livid, raven-haired man in front of her.

Every cell of Merlin’s body is screaming, urging him to run, commanding him to flee, but he stays, and time slows down around him.

“Let me go.”

“I don’t care what you did, Emrys, it’s my job and I’ll do it and then I’ll get paid.”

“I’m no danger to anyone.”

“That’s very nice. But I am.”

And then she pulls the trigger.

* * *

 

Magic isn’t real, but luck certainly is – in the form of Morgana somehow getting on the premise and ringing the doorbell. Arthur could’ve cried and screamed and laughed, but instead he turns around and runs. Everyone is way too focused on the young woman at their porch to be looking for a golden-haired young man running away.

“Get her out of here,” he hears Uther hissing through a slightly open window. They don’t notice him. He sneaks past them, jumps over the fence and makes his way to the nearest supermarket.

He wants to breath a sigh of relief but he doesn’t dare. It’s far from over. And he he still needs to get to the library and the pharmacy to check for Merlin – unseen.

He buys some sunglasses which look terribly out of place on his face, and a beanie. Initially, he picked up a baseball cap, but he put it back because it looked too much like summer and attracting attention is the last thing he wants.

 _You’re already attracting attention with your low IQ anyway._ He smiles. Yes, that’s probably what Merlin would say.

When he finally arrives at the library, he glances inside through the window. The lanky young man is nowhere to be seen, but that doesn’t have to mean anything. He could be in the back. And the only way to find that out is asking Eira. It’s unsafe to do so. Very unsafe. But he doesn’t have a choice.

He taps her shoulder. “Hi,” he mumbles, “is Merlin here?”

She recognises him instantly, but his expression is keeping her from exclaiming his name. “Oh, hello! No, he’s just… sort of disappeared. You don’t happen to know where he is, do you? I’ve tried calling him but he doesn’t pick up…”

Arthur’s stomach churns. He’s told the idiot to run, so he ran. Well, technically, he’s not an idiot. Just this once.

“I’m, uhm, I’ll get him back; there’s just been a misunderstanding.”

The blonde woman looks worried. She grabs his arm and pulls him closer so no one can hear what they’re talking about. “Is everything okay? Gwaine told me you were in trouble. It’s not serious, is it?”

He pulls free and shakes his head, plastering on a fake smile. “He was probably exaggerating. We were just a bit confused. It’s all fine now. But still, for the sake of no trouble, don’t tell anyone that I was here.” She nods and he leaves, already pulling out his phone to call Gaius.

Merlin isn’t in the pharmacy, as he finds out after a short chat with the elder man. Having no clue where to go next, he wanders through the surrounding quarters. Eventually, he sends a text to Merlin, although it’s probably hopeless considering the amount of stress he must be in.

**Arthur: Where r u? I’m out. We need to figure sth out**

But there’s no reply, and Arthur’s heart starts to flutter with anxiety. Something must’ve happened. What if Uther’s men caught him? What if he tripped and fell in front of a train? Both of these options seem equally probable at the moment. A stressed Merlin is a clumsy Merlin.

And just when he’s narrowing down the possibilities of where he could’ve gone, a gunshot cracks through an alleyway close to where he is right now and he knows that it’s too late.


	13. See the Sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter!

Morgana is an angel; Arthur is now convinced. Yes, she’s a brat and quite arrogant, but his sister is without a doubt sent from heaven. She’d positioned herself in front of their father, screamed at him in a frequency that would render anyone deaf, and told him off. Within all his years of working with Uther, Arthur has never managed to make an influence on his father that actually lasted.

But the black-haired woman has somehow changed his mind. He doesn’t even want to know how, he doesn’t want to question it and challenge the gods, but he’s grateful. Even if he can’t show it right now, because his hand his holding Merlin’s cold fingers, moving his thumb in slow circular motions over the back of his hand, tears rolling over his cheeks and a scream trapped in his throat.  
   

There have been tubes, there has been blood and a lot of cries for help, sirens, a devastated _“Merlin”_ before the ambulance drove away, leaving him sitting on the pavement with scarlet still on his hands, a woman next to him offering him money for a taxi.

And now, it’s all fine. At least that’s what the doctors have told him. That’s what Morgana’s said. He doesn’t know if they’re right. Arthur hasn’t properly slept in days, his back and legs hurt from sitting all day, but he refuses to leave his boyfriend’s side.

Merlin has woken up once in this whole time, and it was when Arthur went to the toilet. The raven-haired man was freaked out, shouting his name, thinking he was dead, until they had to sedate him to calm him down, because he was running into the danger of hurting himself if he went any further. And by the time he returned from the loo, it was all over.

Gwen comes by with Lancelot sometimes, there are exchanged hugs and feeble smiles, Gwaine visited them yesterday, but he couldn’t bear it so he’s staying away for the moment. Other people have dropped by, Leon, Percy, Elyan, Gaius, even Morgause, but none of them have found the right words. Struggling to understand and comprehend what happened, they all keep staring at the livid being buried under all those white sheets, chest rising and falling with slow, relaxed breaths.

“Wake up,” Arthur mumbles for the thousandth time and squeezes Merlin’s hand. But he doesn’t even twitch. The blond is exhausted. His eyelids seem to weigh tons. And with a tired sigh, his head slowly sinks onto the soft mattress and he falls asleep.

* * *

 

Merlin suddenly snaps awake. His eyes are still closed, but there’s a bright light shining through his closed lids and some muffled voices and footsteps can be heard. But it’s all still kind of vague and confusing so he decides not to press anything.

_What happened?_

His mind is blank. The last thing he remembers is being at the library. And then, Arthur called. Slowly, the memories are coming back to him, dripping in like stray water drops. He can suddenly recall the woman with the gun, the noise, the _pain_ …  
    And then, suddenly, there is Arthur, his incredulous look quickly turning into naked fear when he spots Merlin on the floor. He says something Merlin can’t remember and then there's only been the blackness that swallows him.

But there’s something else. He’s woken up before. Could be days, could be weeks – he realizes that he’s lost every feeling for time. And something has been missing – no, some _one_.

 _Arthur_.

He tries again to open his eyes but they seem to be glued shut. _Arthur. Arthur, Arthur, Arthur…_

It’s like a mantra in his head as his heartbeat speeds up and monitors around him start beeping alarmingly. His whole body cramps in pain, a dull throbbing under his skin, until, finally, the word slips over his lips.

“Arthur.” He can’t remember what the nurse said to him when he woke up the last time, but he hasn’t been there and Merlin is scared. Frightened. Terrified.

There are hands, muffled voices, a sting in his arm, and then the annoying noise is turned off. There are tears on his cheeks, he can feel them now that they’re slowly drying. He reaches for the itching skin, and when he notices that his limbs are now working properly, he opens his eyes.

And there he is. Pale, black bags under his eyes, hunched shoulders and worry embedded into the core of his eyes, but it’s still the one and only. And the smile that’s now on both of their lips could have lightened up a whole city.

“You’re here.” Merlin’s voice is so, so small. He wants to clear his throat but Arthur’s lips are already on his, hands around his neck and fresh tears mixing in with their tangled bodies.

“Of course I am,” the blond breathes as soon as they’ve pulled apart. “And I always will be.”

Without thinking about it, Merlin tries to sit up, but a sharp sting stops his movement and suddenly, he’s back at the hospital he was years ago. Someone tells him that Freya is dead, that the gunner has escaped and the tears won’t stop coming, his sadness and guilt are overlaying any joy he’s just been feeling and he wraps his arms around himself, trying to ward off the memories.

“…lin?” Arthur tries to get through to him, but, knowing exactly, where he is with his thoughts, knows that it’s wasted energy. He’s expected this. It’s so similar to last time. The scars almost overlap and the pain must be the same. So he does the only thing he can: He climbs into the bed and slips under the covers next to Merlin, sharing body heat and trying to give him as much comfort as possible.

When Merlin finally comes back to reality, an hour has passed.

“We need to call the others.” Arthur almost jumps at his lover’s voice. Concealing it perfectly, he nods.

“Yes, that we should. In fact, I think I’m gonna do it right away.”

As he’s making the calls, he’s sure to keep an eye on the exhausted man in the bed, who is holding his side, wiping away the wetness on his face and trying to breathe deeply.

They both know that this is the third worst thing that, in Merlin’s opinion, could have happened. The first being Arthur dying and the second Arthur getting shot in his place.

And he will need time to heal. A lot of time. And tea. And good books, and long evenings in the forest.

But they’ll manage. They always manage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, for everyone who's been reading: Thank you so much!  
> This was a lot of fun, but now I'm glad to be working on another fic.
> 
> I love you! <3
> 
> (Also did you notice how I tied the beginning with the ending I am so proud omfg)


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